


My Light

by Angel_In_The_Impala



Category: Gone Series - Michael Grant
Genre: FAYZ, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-07-07
Updated: 2015-07-15
Packaged: 2018-04-08 03:43:24
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,712
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4289457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angel_In_The_Impala/pseuds/Angel_In_The_Impala
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Roger liked Edilio pre-FAYZ. Edilio knew him, but never truly saw him until the nightmare had began. Once Edilio saw Roger, he knew he was in over his head, but scared to admit it for awhile. But The FAYZ is ruthless, Hell-on-Earth, and certainly not the ideal place for love to thrive. And yet, the two try to make it work. This is their story, about how they became each others lifeline in the dangers of The Darkness and other evils.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. This Was Supposed To Be A Good Day

**Author's Note:**

> Each chapter will have points of veiw from Edilio and Roger. Rogers last name in this story (Davis) is not canon, it's something I chose, for he has no canon surname in the books.
> 
> The text in bold is actual lines from the books. Bold text from: Chapter One:299 hours, 54 minutes (GONE)
> 
> ~xXx~  
> The morning of November 10th was a normal morning in Perdido Beach, California. Nothing out of the ordinary or weird. Edilio's family was still safe, and Roger was still hopelessly head-over-heels for Edilio. Today would be the day that Roger would try to talk to him without stuttering and mumbling. But in third period, something very, _very_ odd happens...

Roger Davis was a ninth grader attending Perdido Beach School. He was neither popular nor at the bottom of the social scale, but more of the type in the middle. He was kind, thoughtful, and had quite the knack for anything artsy. Because of this, Rogers’s closest friends had dubbed him The Artful Roger, and it didn’t take long for the nickname to catch on in the rest of the school. Relatively everyone liked him, from the first graders to the ninth graders… Well everyone except a group of eighth grade bullies; Orc and his crew. Roger had never done anything bad to deserve their hate; it was just something that they did because of his sexuality. Roger was gay. It still didn’t make sense to him why Orc’s crew detested him for that fact; it wasn’t like Roger was crushing on any of them. But there was someone the blond boy had his green eyes on: Edilio Escobar.

Edilio was the new kid from Honduras, and this year was his first year attending the Perdido Beach School. The excitement of his “newness” had quickly died down in the school in just a month’s time, and that was because he was staying below everyone’s radar. Roger didn’t know how Edilio had managed to escape the popular clique’s hooks. He was exotic and beautiful, with olive skin, close-cropped dark brown hair, and eyes the color of whiskey. His voice had a Spanish accent, and Roger loved hearing him talk. They only had two classes together, English and Art. In English, anytime the class had to work in groups, Roger was always hoping they’d be put in the same group. Roger had more opportunities in Art to go over and talk to Edilio, but often times he’d chicken out and just cast glances at the other boy from across the room. The handful of times they had chatted, Roger would feel his heart hammering, his hands sweating, and his knees shaking. In all honestly, he was no better than a lovesick puppy.

On the morning of November 10th, Roger stood in his bathroom, looking at his reflection. His blond hair was combed and looked soft to the touch, sweeping to the right in the typical California “surfer-guy” type. Roger checked over his outfit for the day one more time. He flicked a piece of lint off of his favorite red polo, and rubbed his sweaty palms on his dark jeans. Roger looked down, making sure both Converse were tied in a double-knot. He took a deep, and slightly shaky, breath and looked intently at his mirror again. “Today is the day Roger. Today you will talk to Edilio Escobar, and you will not wimp out this time,” Roger said firmly, and moments later, smiled at the self-motivation. Today would be a good day.

Roger wasn’t planning on asking Edilio out; he didn’t really even know if Edilio swung that way. But Roger could hope, and oh he did. He wanted to get to know the Honduran boy first, become his friend. Maybe he’d ask for his number, see if they could hang out sometime. Edilio looked so lonely sometimes, sitting alone at lunch or the distant look in his eyes during class. Roger knew Edilio was trying to keep himself unknown to everyone, but he wanted to know why. From what he’d seen, and their brief interactions, Edilio was so kind and respectful, polite and humble, and Roger wondered why he’d want to be away from people.

Roger walked back into his room and pulled on a light jacket. Despite living on the coast of California, the winter season was nearing, and the ocean often brought a chilly breeze to the town of Perdido Beach. Once he slung on his backpack and gave himself a small spritz of nice-smelling cologne, Roger was ready to head to the school and face his crush. He went downstairs, grabbed a blueberry muffin, hollered a “Bye!” to his mom, and began his walk to school. He lived in a house on Brace Road, and it was about a 10 minutes to reach the school. By the time he got there, Roger’s previous confidence was gone, replaced by fear and worry. The entire walk, his mind was plagued with everything that could go wrong; Edilio could laugh in his face, Orc or one of his toadies could tease and berate him, Roger could trip over his own two feet and make a fool of himself, or he could trip and spill paint on Edilio in Art. Roger groaned as the embarrassing scenarios played through his mind and he considered just giving up, walking back home, and curling up under his bed comforter. _No,_ he thought. _I cannot keep wimping out._

Well, that’s exactly what Roger did in first period English. Besides, Edilio was across the room, and both boys had important projects to work on. Roger bit his lip nervously. Art was the last class of the day, and he felt as if he couldn’t wait that long. The blond decided after fourth period, during lunch, he’d approach Edilio.

~xXx~

Edilio Escobar placed his backpack on the floor next to his desk and craned his neck side-to-side, popping it. Other students were filing into the room, most hanging around each other’s desks in groups to gossip before the third period bell rang. Edilio had History this period, and he smiled to himself. He enjoyed learning in this class, liked learning the history of the country that’d given his family a second chance.

The Escobar family was a poor family from Honduras, and one day Edilio’s father told them they were going to move to the US. They made it to California, and took home in the small town in Perdido Beach. The family never stopped trying to keep a low profile. They lived in a trailer on the outskirts of town, and the parents had simple jobs, just enough to get by; Edilio’s father a farmhand, and his mother a maid at the Clifftop Resort nearby. Edilio and his two little brothers stayed low and out of the way at school. Edilio’s older brother though, he was important. The older sibling was a soldier, currently deployed in Afghanistan. The Escobar’s fear was not without reason; they were in the US illegally.

That was why Edilio kept his distance. He was kind, but not seeking out friends, terrified that they’d hate him and his family for being immigrants. But things were going good; no one knew his secret, his grades were average, and he was happy to be in America. Despite the difficulties, this life was much easier than the one he lived in Honduras. But being an illegal immigrant was not his only secret, and this one, his family didn’t even know… Edilio was starting to believe in the possibility that he could be gay. There was a boy, in this history class actually, that was beginning to peak Edilio’s interest. His name was Sam Temple.

Sam was a bit of a loner himself, and only had one true friend, Quinn Gaither. Sam’s isolation seemed more of his own choice than a secret, or a disturbing past. There was a story Edilio had heard about him though, and it was actually quite heroic more than anything else. Apparently when Sam was in seventh grade, the school bus driver had a heart attack at the wheel, and nobody noticed, except Sam. He’d jumped up, took control of the wheel, and just in time too. If he’d waited a moment longer, the bus would’ve careened off the road and over the cliff, into the ocean. This act of bravery had given Sam the nickname of School Bus Sam, but almost nobody remembered that event anymore, just a few years later. Sam had simply faded into the background.

Sam was nice-looking, tanned skin and strong muscles from constant surfing. Naturally, his blond-brown hair was the typical surfer style. His eyes were a blue-gray, like the sea during a storm. But it was a simple crush, nothing more, and Edilio knew it could never be anything more than what their current relationship was: nonexistent. But Edilio could always look, and cast Sam a quick glance as the bell beginning class rang. Then he focused his attention on taking down the notes Mr. Trentlake began writing on the blackboard, and any thoughts of Sam left his mind.

**One minute the teacher was talking about the Civil War. And the next minute he was gone.**

**There.**

**Gone.**

**No “poof.”**

**No flash of light.**

**No explosion.**

Edilio’s eyes widened in shock. _What on Earth_ , he thought, puzzled and scratched his head, looking around then back at the front of the room. Mr. Trentlake was definitely not there.

 **“You saw that, right?”** Sam said to a girl named Mary Terrafino. Her expression matched Edilio’s: confused.

 **“Um, where’s Mr. Trentlake?”** Quinn asked.

 **“He must have left,”** Mary answered, but no one in the room really believed that.

Edilio found his voice again, and was surprised that it was even and level, despite the initial shock still coursing through his veins. **“No, man. Poof,”** and did a ‘poof’ motion with his hand. A few kids around the room were giggling to one another, finding the situation amusing, in a way. Someone else in the room was missing as well, a boy named Josh. More kids were laughing now, wondering how the teacher and student had pulled off the magic trick, and the students waited for the two to waltz through the door. Except they never did open the door.

Instead, a girl named Astrid Ellison (aka, Astrid the Genius, as Edilio had come to learn) came in. Her short, blonde hair swayed as her blue eyes scanned the room. **“Where’s your teacher?”** she asked the whole room.

There were scattered laughs and shrugs all over the room. **“He poofed,”** Quinn answered, fiddling with the gray fedora on his head.

 **“Something weird is happening. My math study group… there were just the three of us, plus the teacher. They all just disappeared,”** Astrid’s scared gaze scanned across the room. No one was laughing now, and the room was quiet. Edilio began to register other noises; kids elsewhere shouting way too loud, and car alarms blaring a little ways in the distance. Sam and Quinn got up and followed Astrid out of the room, while everyone else looked to each other.

“What in the actual hell is happening?”

“I must be dreaming.”

“Well he was a sucky teacher anyways, and Josh was a prick.”

Soon the voices were overlapping each other. People began checking their phones, and they started freaking out; calls couldn’t be made, and the internet couldn’t be accessed, despite the fact there was a signal.

**“Try 911,” a scared voice demanded.**

**“Who do you think I called numbnuts?”**

**“There’s no 911?”**

**“There’s nothing. I’ve gone through half of my speed dials, and there’s not anything.”**

People disappearing, phones not working? Something was horribly wrong, and Edilio felt sick to his stomach. He needed to go home. He grabbed his bag, and bolted from the school, running as fast as his legs would carry him.

He finally reached Golf Course Road at the Clifftop Resort and stopped, gasping for breath. His home was just ten minutes away. Edilio took a few deep breaths and began running again, but not for long, for the path disappeared. Not just the path, but almost everything. There was a wall of some form in the way. It was a pearly-gray color, and seemed to shimmer. Tentatively, he reached a hand out to touch it. His hand made contact with the wall, and Edilio let out a pained yelp as an electric jolt ran up his arm. A dark realization dawned on him: He couldn’t go home. He didn’t know if his mother and father were okay, and his two little brothers. Both were home today because of sickness, and Edilio had no way of reaching them. A choked sob escaped his lips and his knees buckled, and then a thought hit him. Edilio’s mother was working, and Edilio was already on the Resort grounds. His mother was probably in the hotel, changing sheets, or wiping counters or something like that.

He ran to the hotel, and checked all the places she could be, but was disappointed at her absence. And not just his mother’s; there was no one in the hotel. Edilio took a few deep breaths, for he could not let panic take over. “Mi Dios… What am I going to do?” He muttered to himself.

With a heavy heart, Edilio slowly began to make his way back to the town Plaza.


	2. Caught Red Handed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ((NOT YET COMPLETED)) 
> 
> The Thanksgiving Battle was a week ago. Roger's stayed outta the big mess of things, making himself at home in an empty house. His biggest problem at the moment is his dwindling art supply... Well second biggest problem; Roger's still too scared to seek Edilio out and have a proper conversation with him.  
> Edilio's got his hands and time full training his soldiers, any thought of romance far out of his mind. His small crush on Sam Temple is long gone, replaced by simple feelings of friendship and respect. All of Edilio's focus is on his army... Until one night he sees some blond kid he recognizes from school breaking into Ralph's Grocery Store.

Roger placed the paintbrush down and looked at the canvas on the table in front of him. One day ago, it was his final blank canvas. Roger's teeth worried at his bottom lip; his small art supply was getting smaller.

After the first hour without the adults and older teens, Roger had gone back home. A quiet, empty, and lonely home. Roger's mother would've left for work shortly after he'd gone off to school. She worked at a shopping center some twenty miles down the road. Roger sat on the kitchen floor for over half an hour, calling his mother's cell the whole time, tears streaming down his face. Not a single call went through. He then walked upstairs to his bathroom, stripped himself of his clothes, stepped into the shower, and started the hot water. Roger stayed in the shower, cried and screamed, until his throat was raw. When he got out, he put on a pair of boxers and a sweatshirt, then fell asleep. Roger woke up sometime around midnight and came to a decision: he couldn't stay here, not without his mother. This house was not Roger's home without her kindness, comfort, and warmth.

And so began his hunt for some other house he could live in, one that didn't bring painful memories in every empty room. He found that at 301 Sherman Avenue. There were pictures hanging on the walls of a family of three. A mother, father, and a little boy. Before actually moving his belongings into the house, he waited a few days to see if the little boy'd show up; Roger didn't want to intrude on the little guys home. The boy didn't come to the house. Roger packed a few bags. One with clothes, his bathroom supplies, and an extra pair of shoes. A second bag held art stuff: pencils, paints, paint brushes, pastels, charcoals, a sketch pad, and a few blank canvases. He chose the guest bedroom for himself and unpacked. Then he made one last trip home for a couple of things: as much food as he could cram into the two travel bags, and a framed picture of his mother and him smiling in front of the Louvre in France a few summers back.

Roger liked this house. He could go into this kitchen without imagining his mother standing in front of the stove flipping pancakes and whistling a happy tune. He could sit on the living room couch and not imagine the smell of buttered popcorn in the air and him and his mother's laughs filling the room.

People over the age of 15 disappearing was not the only strange thing Roger had witnessed these past few weeks. There were kids developing powers; some used for good, others for bad. A boy named Sam Temple could shoot beams of light from his hands, and was The FAYZ's official hero. Roger had witnessed true evil these past few weeks, and this evil took form in three people: Caine Soren, Diana Landris, and Drake Merwin. Caine could move objects (and people) with his mind, Diana was a heartless manipulator, and Drake... Drake was scary and sick, all on his own, no powers to emphasize those facts. And somehow, Drake got worse than that, with the help of the only evil worse than him: The Darkness. Sam had burned Drake's right arm, and later on, Diana sawed the burned, mangled flesh off. The Darkness regrew the lost limb as a whip-like appendage, making Drake an even stronger force to be reckoned with.

This hell-hole they all resided in was soon dubbed The FAYZ (Fallout Alley Youth Zone) within a few days of its creation. They were like a new civilization, learning to survive and create a system of order. For those in Perdido Beach, Sam Temple was the leader, Astrid Ellison was the brains behind many of Sam's desicions, and things were overall okay... If you ignored the two metaphorical black clouds hanging over everyone's heads; the plans of the Coates Academy kids, and the dwindling food supply. In the beginning, since there were no adults telling them they couldn't, many kids had pigged-out on sweets, and continued from there. They had been rash, not thinking about the future. Now, there were guards in front of Ralphs Grocery Store, and they had to approve of your selections before you could take it home. Roger only ate whenever he truely felt really hungry.

His stomach let out a loud rumble and he looked out the window at the dark sky. Roger hadn't eaten since early that morning and thought it would be okay for him to nibble on something for a bit. He decided on cheese and crackers. While he ate, he thought of another very important person of The FAYZ: Edilio Escobar. Roger sighed, letting his head thunk on the kitchen table. Despite all that had happened, and all that was going on, Roger was still pining over him. He handn't gotten to see Edilio quite as much now as their school days, but he's definatley heard plenty. Edilio was the leader of The FAYZ's army. Roger couldn't even begin to imagine the amount of courage and responsiblity that took, and it made him fall a little harder for the Honduran. He'd thought about seeking him out, see if they could hang out in Edilio's free time, but he never did. To distract himself from thoughts of Edilio, Roger buried himself in art, and because of this, his small amout of supplies was basically non-existant now. He _knew_ there had to be some stuff at Ralphs he could get, but he didn't feel like waiting for tomorrow to go get them. Plus, one on the guards of the store was Howard Bassem, a guy who was close with Orc. During school, Howard had often picked on Roger more than the others in Orc's group did. Roger preferred staying as far from him as possible.

Roger ran up to his room, a plan formulating in his mind. Once in the guest bedroom he'd claimed as his own, he slipped on a pair of shoes and tossed on a black hoodie. As he grabbed a duffle bag, he muttered, "I cannot believe that I am doing this." Then he went downstairs and into the garage, examining the contents of the tool table that had once belonged to the man of this house. Eventually Roger grabbed a couple of screwdrivers, a pocket knife, and left the house.

The streets were mostly quiet, save for a few distant sounds like the bark of a dog, or a few loud voices. The streetlights above Roger's head flickered every few moments and with every step, his gut churned. Roger was a good kid; respected elders, had overall good grades, and didn't ever get into serious trouble. Before The FAYZ, he never would've considered stealing from a store, but he had to tell himself things were diffrent now, this whole world they were in was diffrent. Besides, it's not like Roger was going to take the things that wre important, the things being guarded, the food. He just wanted to look through the art section without a confrontation with Howard. _Doing this doesn't make me a bad person,_ Roger kept thinking to himself.

As he neared Ralph's, the blond stuck to the shadows. He could see the front of the store, and saw 3 figures by the door. He couldn't tell if Howard was among them, but he didn't want to find out. He used the dark as a cover to creep around to the back of the store and found what he was looking for, a few windows. He pulled out the pocket knife and used it to undo the latch on a window, climbed up, and crept into the store.

There were very few lights on in the building,making the place seem very ominous. And then there was the smell of food that'd begun to rot. Roger made a disgusted face as he passed a small meat display with flies hovering around the ruined food. After a few minutes of searching, he found the art supply selection and a smile spread out across Roger's face. He stuffed the duffle bag full of papers, canvases, paints, pencils, and a couple of other odds-and-ends. 

Once the bag was full, he walked back to the window. It was a bit harder getting out than in, now the bag had plenty of contents. While Roger was struggling with getting the duffle out, he had no idea that he was being watched.

~xXx~

Edilio tossed and turned in his bed, sleep far out of reach. His mind was racing a million miles per minute. He was thinking about his plans  for the next day. Edilio knew he had to send a small patrol around the town, and another patrol near Coates Academy to make sure that group was staying in line and not causing trouble. And then the inevitable weapons training. Many of his soldiers still weren't the best with handeling firearms, but how could they? So many were just kids, and had to become a soldier of sorts. It made Edilio's heart break and his stomach churn, and there was the fact he was their leader, the one in charge of them, and the one who had to teach them how to do these things. _Why me?_ , Edilio had asked himself so many times these past few days. He wasn't special, he had no important knowledge of these things.


End file.
